Be There Ice In Thy Heart
by animeloveramy
Summary: America learns that he really needs to start taking these meetings more seriously…only problem is he learns it the hard way, and at England's expense. Will be yaoi uk/us
1. Chapter 1

**Ok, so this is my first Hetalia fan fiction, _ever_, so please don't be_ too_ mean…I hope you all enjoy this and decide to review it after, for better or for worse. On another note, I've made it so that if something happens to the land of their respective countries it effects them too, in various ways dependant on the seriousness of it. I don't know if this is in the actual thing, but that's what I'm doing. Kay? **

**Summery – America learns that he really needs to start taking these meetings more seriously…only problem is he learns it the hard way, and at England's expense.**

**Disclaimer – I don't own Hetalia. Unfortunately -_- (Beta Note-She does however own the world; just no one has thought to let the world know yet)**

**oxo…oxo**

It had been a normal meeting before it had happened.

France, England and America were fighting, Italy was muttering something about needing pasta, Lithuania and Latvia were pointedly avoiding Russia's gaze and Germany was watching it all take place with something akin to both exasperation and irritation on his face.

"ENOUGH!" he finally shouted, gaining the attention of the rest of the selected nations present at this particular meeting. "We're supposed to be thinking of ways to fight global warming not picking fights with each other!" he continued, eyeing the trio of once bickering countries pointedly. Only England had the decency to look ashamed, the other two either ginning or looking vaguely put out.

"Apologies Germany," the Brit said, "you're right. We should be focusing on the state of the world not our petty problems."

Germany nodded approvingly before sitting back down, Italy looking at him with a small smile, glad his friend had calmed.

"So where were we?" America asked, his grin still in place as he gazed around the room.

"I believe you were talking about a team of superhero's mending the gap in the ozone layer, Môn ami," France replied, his head resting on a fisted hand as he looked over the table at the American. The blonde's grin widened.

England sighed slightly. This is how they had started fighting in the first place. He had, of course, commented on the stupidity of what America had said which had lead France to start muttering some sort of nonsense he only caught the second half of. The snigger that had come from the Frenchman's lips had been enough to irritate however and, somehow, it had led to the three arguing over nothing in particular.

Really though, this was a serious matter. Why couldn't the American just _take_ it seriously for once? As America started jabbering on, however, a strange feeling came over the Brit. He wasn't sure exactly what it was, but if he had to give it a name, then he would call it a foreboding…the same kind of feeling he would get before a major battle or if some disaster (usually no worse than the odd flood) happened in his country.

He didn't think much of it though, only allowing a small frown to grace his face. His mind gone from the meeting, he soon found himself in the centre of attention. Typical.

"England? Are you paying attention?" America asked, eyebrows furrowed as he took in the blonde, noticing the troubled green eyes. Those eyes flicked up to him in surprise, before annoyance flickered through them.

"No, I wasn't you git. Why should I listen to your idiotic dribble a second time?"

America's eyebrows furrowed further. "You alright Arthur? You seem a bit stressed."

England glared slightly before his gaze softened and he sighed. "I just had a foreboding is all…I'm sure its fine."

America didn't look entirely convinced, but continued anyways, going back to talking about genetically mutating four human's to give them powers to fix the ozone. England couldn't concentrate on what he was saying; the nauseous feeling in his stomach was growing stronger the more time went past, and the stronger it got the more he began to worry.

Alfred was just getting fully into hero mode when it happened, a loud crack rattled through the building followed by the whole place lurching harshly. The group became still, waiting with bated breath to see if anything followed. When nothing did, America began to chuckle nervously, getting to his feet from where he had fallen on the floor and looking out of the window. Everything seemed fine.

"I don't know what that was but it didn't seem to do anything…" the American reported, eyed searching the other nations before stopped at a certain Englishman who looked like he wanted to throw up. "Arthur?"

The green eyes looked up to meet his again, but this time they held fear; a fear that caused a chill to run through the American.

"Are you aright?" he asked, ignoring the several sets of eyes that were pinned on the pair of them as the groups mutterings died down. England's mouth opened and closed like a fish for a moment as he struggled to find words, before his eyes opened wide and he let our a gasp. His face screwed up in shock and pain, he let out a strangled cry of agony before collapsing in a heap over the table in front of him.

Time seemed to slow down for America as he saw his friend fall. The pain in the other man's eyes almost ripped his heart in two as he watched, only pausing a moment in shock and horror before joining France at the Englishman's side.

England's eyes were still open, but they were unseeing. A small trickle of blood had made its way from the blonde's lips and was falling down his chin. America would have thought him dead if he wasn't twitching and gasping like a fish out of water.

"What's the matter with him?" America asked in horror as France gave England a check over, a serious expression on his face.

"I don't know," was the nation's short reply, causing irritation to flood through America as he turned to glare at the man. He was opening his mouth to say something when Canada spoke up, gaining everyone's eyes on him for the first time in his life.

"I think it might have had something to do with that crack…my side's gone numb."

America blinked, his focus no longer on the Brit but on his brother who was blushing slightly under the attention he had suddenly gained.

"Now that you mention it, so has mine," Russia muttered, turning half the attention to him also.

"What do you mean?" Germany asked slowly, eyes switching from one to the other as he scrutinised the pair in turn. Canada spluttered slightly before coughing and trying again.

"Well, it sort of feels like something might have happened to the boarders…like a wave crashed into it or something." He replied, a small, thoughtful frown coming to his features as he delved deeper into the problem. Being a nation, and being the land itself, he was (like all of the others) able to detect, feel and examine a natural disaster or war that came to his country.

"Well?" America snapped impatiently, the unusual feeling getting the better of him.

"The ice caps," was Russia's reply, and everyone turned to look at the smiling country. He was watching the group with a strange look in his eyes, and a foreboding smile on his face. "Part of the ice caps have broken off, falling into the sea and creating a wave that has swept across the top half of the globe,"

There was silence, broken only by a short cry of pain from England which effectively snapped them all out of their thoughts. America shot Russia a glance, his eyes narrowing slightly at the too happy look on his face. He then turned back to Canada, preferring to talk to him than the silver haired nation.

"So how come he's the only one affected?" he growled, pointing a shaking hand at the Brit still slouched over the conference table. Canada recoiled slightly at his brother's harsh tone before shaking his head, nervous and unsure.

"I don't know!"

"Calm down America. There is a simple explanation." France cut in, drawing the attention to where he was patting a wet cloth on England's sweaty forehead. America forced himself to take a deep breath before asking further. France lifted his eyes to meet the young nation's with something akin to guilt burning in them. "The wave wasn't big enough to reach you after it had hit both Greenland and Canada. The other countries on the borderline that would have felt this impact the most were not here, and Germany and I were shielded too…by England."

Understanding shone in America's eyes, and he gasped.

"He protected you…"

France chuckled dryly. "Not by choice. The wave would have had to travel a fair distance to get to Britain in the first place, and will have lost some of its momentum. I fear that is probably the only reason he is still alive,"

Silence again.

"Poor England…" Italy murmured, followed by muttered agreements. America found he couldn't care less anymore. His friend and mentor, the one who had raised him, was slouched like that, in pain and not even unconscious. How much the Englishman was getting from this conversation, he didn't know…but the thought didn't really help America.

There was nothing he could do for the nation, once great but now probably covered in water. America gulped at the prospect. He was regretting now his lax attitude when it came to global warming. He had never believed it a real problem, not for him, and had always wondered why England had taken it so seriously…well now he knew, and didn't he feel like a stupid, selfish git.

Looking at England, gulping at painful gasps of air with dulled eyes and blooded lips, America felt tears come to his eyes. Unable to cope he fell to his knees, burying his head into his hands as he began to sob.

Why was it you only appreciated something when you were in danger of losing it? Why was it the people and things that are special to you only show you their worth when you are in risk of loosing them? America didn't know, but in that moment, he didn't care.

**oxo…oxo**

**Dear readers,**

**I hope you like this. I don't think it turned out too badly for my first go…I just wanted a story that was a bit more serious and angsty…so I made one. I'm not sure whether I want to continue this, and I'm also not sure that if I do I want to make it England/America romance…I mean I love them but I don't know if I should add it to this or not (if I decide to continue of course). So please review and tell me what you think I should do. Cheers ^_^**

**Animeloveramy **

**-_- not sure I can deal with angsty writing, kinda feels like it might ruin the mood if I put my normal micky take remark here **

**AnimeAiedail**


	2. Chapter 2

**So I extended it ^_^**

**oxo…oxo**

When England woke up he was shivering.

Blinking his eyes open, he took a shaky breath, trying to adjust to his suddenly conscious state. He felt like crap, as if he had been struggling to breathe in his sleep, and there was a strange, metallic taste in his mouth he couldn't identify.

The bright white when his eyes opened blinded him, and his eyes watered as he blinked, willing them to adjust so he would just be able to _see_. The fact that he wasn't able to remember where he was or what he was doing there…or, in fact, anything that had happened before; scared him. The last thing he remembered was listening to America as he babbled about something non-descript when he should have been talking about global warming.

America.

The blonde was sat beside him; asleep in the chair beside the bed he seemed to be in. everything was white – the walls, the ceiling, the bedclothes. It reminded him of a hospital…but why would he be in a hospital?

Panic started to run through him and he sat up quickly, groaning slightly as his head began to spin with the sudden movement. He supposed it was probably the groan that woke America, the blonde boy's blue eyes opening quickly and the soon found England's own, green ones.

The older nation felt a large tugging at his heart as he saw the relief that bloomed in America's eyes and the wide grin that appeared upon the younger nation's face.

"Arthur!" America gasped with delight and relief before flinging himself forwards out of the chair to envelop England in his arms. The Brit gasped slightly, his body screaming out in pain at even the smallest touches, and America pulled back quickly with a sheepish look on his face and a flash of worry in his eyes. "Sorry," he apologised, not drawing back fully but keeping his hands hovering over England's shoulders. "I expect you're sore."

England frowned. "What happened?" he asked, looking into those bright blue eyes that were so close to his face, a blush growing on his cheeks. America frowned slightly too, an unsure expression coming to his own face. The expression didn't help England, and only made him more fearful. America didn't ever look uncertain without a good reason for him to be, and even then not often.

"You…you don't remember?" he asked, licking his lips in nervousness. England shook his head, frowning as the American avoided his eyes. "Oh,"

"Alfred…" England started slowly. His head was beginning to throb and he wasn't enjoying it. All he wanted to do was sleep…but not before he found out what happened.

"I'm not sure what to tell you England…" the blonde started, looking anywhere but at the Brit. It both annoyed and confused the hell out of him, and he wasn't going to take it. He wanted to know what happened, for better or for worse, and he wanted to know _now_.

His hand shot out, grasping Alfred's chin and turning his head so that he was looking straight into his eyes. Wide, blue eyes met cool green in shock and America found himself frozen, unable to take his eyes from the ones in front of him, the ones who had mesmerised him since before he could remember.

"How about the truth," was England's quiet reply, causing America's eyes to blink and close, gently and instinctually leaning into Arthur's unmoved hand. After a moment, he opened his eyes again, determination and resignation in his eyes.

"There was a wave. Some ice had broken off from the icecaps…it-it practically submerged your country. There's only a small bit of England left,"

It was England's time to freeze, his hand falling limply from America's chin and onto his lap as he took in what had been said. He was almost underwater? No wonder he felt like he was drowning in his own body. Letting out a choked sob, he suddenly realised he had hot tears running down his cheeks and he was soon enveloped in a pair of strong, tentative arms. They held him closely, but loosely, making sure not to hurt him. He was thankful for the other nation's comfort, burying his head into America's shoulder.

Alfred stroked his old mentor's hair as he cried, struggling to keep his own tears from spilling. He had seen what remained of the once great nation…and it wasn't a pretty sight. It was a while before England calmed down, the sobs gently receding into quiet shivers, but Arthur never pulled back, and Alfred never let go. They just stayed like that until England fell asleep in the other's arms.

**xxx…xxx**

It was a couple of weeks after that, that England was able to leave the hospital. The incident with the wave had damaged him badly, but he was, thankfully, still able to walk. It was mainly internal damage that had been the problem.

A couple of his ribs had been broken and many of his internal organs suffered from various strains, but he was quickly able to get up and around without help.

America visited him every day, never failing to turn up. Arthur would insult and argue with him as usual, making sure to keep up his front…while underneath he was touched and not just a little happy at the attention the younger nation was giving him. His heart would jump every time he came over, and a small flush would appear on his face. England would try to put it down to his injured state, but America never looked entirely convinced.

With all his time in hospital, he had never been happier than when America had been with him. It was a strange feeling, a vaguely new feeling, but one he found that he liked. He knew it would be strange without the American in his life again and, strangely, he knew it would be even stranger than before the revolution. He felt it would hurt more too.

The first time he saw a picture of his country, it took all of his might not to cry. America, and all of the others for that matter, were all very tentative with him; walking on eggshells as if any wrong move or one stray word would tear him apart. It was frustrating with all of them, but none more than Alfred; the one who had always been himself around him, now thought he was confined by his words. It both hurt and angered him, and it was something he was intent to change.

America hadn't visited him at his home since he had gotten back from the hospital, but on a phone conversation the night before the American had told Arthur that he would be coming over for the weekend, if that was alright.

"_If that's alright?"_

That little sentence invoked more emotion in him than he had ever thought possible, or would like to admit. He, who had always wanted America to be a gentleman, not to push his nosy self on others and to be calmer, more dignified…to _ask_ before he came over rather than just blustering into the house without warning…didn't like this new change in America. Alfred had become everything England had ever wanted him to be…but it felt empty.

He missed the old America, and it stung. It stung like hell.

**oxo…oxo**

**Dear readers,**

**Here's chapter two. Only a few of you asked, but since I had the inspiration to do this, I did more. It will be three chapters (hopefully) and will be a yaoi (boyxboy). I'm sorry if you don't like yaoi, but I think it's rather cute, and England and America are my personal favourite couple. So please review! **

**Animeloveramy **

**For those who don't like yaoi you may wish to carefully read the descriptions of her next few before reading them, cos she has fallen far and deep into that particular abyss and so far it doesn't seem like she's found any particular bottom...**

**AnimeAiedail**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter three. The third and final chapter of this story. Enjoy!**

**oxo…oxo**

America smiled as the door opened to reveal a rather tired looking but well England, the nation looking at him with a small frown on his face. His fairly quick recovery had been due mainly to the way the waters receded from the land after a couple of days, taking its time but slowly and surely revealing more and more of the United Kingdom as each week passed. Though it was still a pitiful sight, the island nation had recovered fairly well from the waters that had terrorised it.

The large grandfather clock at the end of the spacious hallway chimed the bells for ten o'clock, the exact time that America had told England he would be there. He should hope so, he had aimed for it to be that way; getting the earlier plane in order for there to be plenty of time to be prompt…just the way his mentor always taught him to be.

"You're on time…" England grumbled, not meeting Alfred's eyes as he stepped aside to let the American in. The larger nation was surprised, hesitating slightly at the old man's tone before walking past him and into the hall, hovering in the doorway to the living room as if he wasn't sure he was allowed there.

America had found, ever since that disastrous meeting, that he wanted to do nothing but please England; and if being the gentleman England had tried to make him when America was still a colony then so be it. He would make that sacrifice for England. He would become all that England ever wanted him to be.

The older nation only scowled further at his reluctance and pushed passed him, leading the American into the living room and gesturing for the blonde to sit down. America stayed silent, nothing but a polite smile gracing his lips and no sight of the large, idiotic grin he usually wore as England turned to look at him, looking the blonde up and down a couple of times and frowning deeper when he realised that America wasn't wearing his usual attire.

The bomber jacket was gone, replaced by a loose fitting grey suit (America hadn't been able to bring himself to buy the tight fitting one). He wore black buckled shoes and a light shirt with a thin black tie. It wasn't England's exact idea of perfect gentlemanly attire, but it was probably the closest America was ever going to get.

"Coffee?" England asked, surprising America again at the cold tone the Brit's voice had taken.

"Uh, sure. Thanks." Was his articulate reply, watching as England strode out of the room towards the kitchen, a strange expression on his face.

England sighed as he poured the hot water from the kettle into the pair of china cups on the side. He never thought he would ever say (or think) it, but he missed America. _His_ America. The one who had always been immature, always had a grin on his face, was always unruly and always got into fights, even if those fights were often with him.

This America, this new America, scared him. It made him realise what he truly wanted, what he truly needed, and it wasn't another version of himself. No. He needed America's vivid happiness and optimism to match his own pessimistic attitude. Another of himself was certainly wasn't what he wanted or needed…but it _had_ been what he had asked for.

A wave of bitterness swept through him and he cursed himself, holding back frustrated tears before quickly picking up the cups and carrying them through to where America was still sat on his sofa, stiff and uncertain; like he had never been to this house before. It was the last straw for England who, slamming the cups on the coffee table in the middle of the room, looked at his old charge with burning eyes.

"Will you bloody well stop acting like you've never been here before? Its driving me nuts you wanker!"

To say the outburst shocked America was an understatement. His wide eyes stared at the older nations angry face, unable to put a coherent thought together. Finally, he was able to get his mouth to form a brilliant comeback of – "wha…?"

England's eyebrows twitched. America flinched.

Then England sighed and pulled back, still focusing Alfred with a glare though not one as strong as the previous. "Everyone has been walking on eggshells around me lately, especially you, _don't you try to deny it_, and it's driving me insane!"

America blinked.

Had he been walking on eggshells? He hadn't noticed…though if he thought about it he supposed he had. He hadn't been his normal goofy self around England for a while now really, though that wasn't really due to his 'walking on eggshells' and more to do with trying to be the gentleman Arthur had always wanted him to be. The last thought made him frown slightly.

"I haven't been walking on eggshells!" he complained, glaring slightly as England's eyes narrowed.

"You have! Coming here and acting like I'm someone you've just met! Wearing that suit!"

"What's wrong with the suit! Not good enough for you or something? Oh, nothing can please the great England, oh no! Just wearing a suit isn't good enough if it's the wrong kind!" America countered, fire in his eyes as he mocked the older nation. He was furious. He had done all of this for England and still it wasn't good enough.

"It's not the type of suit that's the problem you git!" England shot back, eyes smouldering with burning ice.

"Oh? What's wrong with it then, hu? Wrong trimming?"

"_It's the fact that_ you're_ wearing it you_ idiot!"

There was stunned silence as Arthur's words met their target, stunning America into frozen shock as he looked at the man in front of him, tears beginning to grow in the older country's eyes. England was shaking, own eyes wide as he took in what he said before looking away from the blonde, his fringe covering his eyes.

America's eyes softened as he took in his former mentor's shaking form. "What do you mean?"

Arthur took in a sharp breath, not moving as he answered, his voice shaky. "You-you became everything I wanted you to become," he whispered, "and I hate it."

Alfred was silent, before a smile came to his face; he understood. Moving forwards quickly, he captured England in a hug; wrapping his arms around the Brit. Arthur seemed to freeze, surprised and unsure. Then he relaxed.

"What are you doing you git?" he asked, voice rough and emotional but still able to carry the tone of annoyance he would normally have. America chuckled slightly.

"I would have thought you off all people would recognise a hug Iggy,"

England seemed to choke slightly before his head snuggled further into America's chest, though his arms remained at his side. Alfred kept his arms wrapped snugly around the shorter nation, placing his chin on top of the man's head as he cried. The tears were silent, but oh so very much there.

When England had calmed down some, America spoke.

"I'm sorry if I hurt you Arthur. It wasn't my intention. I just wanted to be what you wanted me to be. I'd never have thought it would have upset you. It was you who was always telling me to change you know."

England sniffed. "I know that," he replied indignantly. "I suppose I didn't realise how much I loved you the way you were until you changed,"

As soon as the words were out of his mouth Arthur wanted them back, stiffening in his hold as the hold around him stiffened. Then the arms retreated, tearing a giant rip in his heart at the rejection.

Then America's large hands were on his chin, lifting his head and eyes to meet his. He found himself staring into those sky blue eyes for fraction of a second before they were hidden by lids, Alfred's lips having crashed into his own.

His whole body tingled as their lips met and, after the shock had worn off, his eyes slipped slowly closed, relishing the feel of America's hand through his hair. When they came apart not too long later, England looked up at the blonde with wide eyes and a curious gaze.

America looked at him sheepishly. "I couldn't help myself. I never thought I'd hear you say that. Ever." _All I ever wanted was your praise…and your love._

England smiled slightly before sighing, walking past America and back over to the coffee table; picking up his cup and sipping at it with a frown.

"What's wrong?" Alfred asked worriedly as he waited for his old mentor's reply. England just looked at him with an America like pout.

"Tea's gone cold,"

The American just stared for a moment before laughing. "Best make you some more then, hey old man?"

England snorted. "I'm not old."

America grinned. "Course not," he replied sarcastically before pecking England on the lips (causing a nice flush on the other nations cheeks) and winked. "But I wouldn't have you any other way, my love,"

**oxo…oxo**

**Dear readers,**

**That, I think, is the cheesiest ending I have ever written. WANT SOME BREAD WITH THAT CHEESE OR WHAT? Oh well I suppose. It will have to do. I hope you liked this and weren't too disappointed with how I did it. I thought it was alright. Anyways, please review. I love reviewers, they make my entire day. Every one. So each review I get counts to one happy day. And, hopefully, will give you a sense of accomplishment and so brighten up your days too ;)**

**Animeloveramy **

**Hmm, there's several things I could say here. But I don't think I'm going to, cos to say one would be a grievous insult to the others -_- equal opportunities for...well thoughts ftw! **

**AnimeAiedail**


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